


Hedonists, Pillow Princes, Lazy Layabout Boys

by letsmoveourbootybutts



Category: Superjail! (Cartoon)
Genre: Alien Biology, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Female Ejaculation, Frottage, Messy, Neck Kissing, Nipple Licking, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other, Post-Coital Cuddling, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Self-Indulgent, Strap-Ons, Tentacle Dick, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-01 08:44:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18796924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsmoveourbootybutts/pseuds/letsmoveourbootybutts
Summary: "Right now they don't even need the madness of Superjail to show how hedonistic they can be, instead indulging in your apartment. They're on a vacation from vacation and they need to stretch their legs a bit. Or rather, spread them."Trans masc nb reader tag teams the twins.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is for me but y'all can read it if you want

You would think that after a while you'd come up with monikers to distinguish them, perhaps Romulus and Remus, perhaps Castor and Pollux. Such efforts seem fruitless to you however because in many ways, they are the same person. Things will differentiate them on occasion but as they have explained to you, they are multikind. They think and plan and quip in tandem, explaining the way their society and their breeding structure works back home to your much interested ears. 

They have thrown that away long ago, tossed it for the hedonism that naturally grows from Superjail, let themselves free of the constraints of brood wars and colonization and subsumption and physical unification and all the other concepts on which they have educated you. Right now they don't even need the madness of Superjail to show how hedonistic they can be, instead indulging in your apartment. They're on a vacation from vacation and they need to stretch their legs a bit. Or rather, spread them. 

One of them is kneeling primly on your bed, fully clothed save his shoes for the moment, and you intend to make this a quick moment indeed. You face him and run a few fingers through his thick, soft hair. He places his gloved hands on your wrists and presses his thin lips to yours, a quick and soft brush before pulling back and phasing his shirt off. Kissing is something they are fairly unfamiliar with, and they tend not to overemphasize it.

His brother is set up comfortably in the armchair in the corner, borrowing your laptop and headphones to entertain himself while you're busy. It takes some effort for them to do different complex tasks simultaneously, but they've adapted well. You return your attention to the one in front of you, clasping your hands around his waist before returning his initial kiss. 

He slips the tip of his tongue in your mouth, thick and flexible, before withdrawing it and moving down to your neck. He is very cautious to only kiss, not bite down, but you can feel the seam of his tongue mandibles opening just a bit, the sharp edges tickling their way down. After a playful little nip he leans back to undo the buttons of your shirt and slide it off your shoulders. 

"Now we are even."

"I mean, no, unless you wanna draw another two nipples on here" you say, gesturing at the flat plane of your chest. 

"I have a better idea." He leans forward and presses his lips just beneath your left nipple, kissing and sucking and nibbling down. You gasp as you feel him slide his flat teeth up into his gum just a little bit, allowing you to feel the sharp points of his second set. He stays fixed on that spot, idly playing his hands down your sides and hooking his fingers into your belt as he creates a rosy purple bruise. This is much more their speed, biting and roughing up their lovers, marking them up and making them bleed. Your pain tolerance holds out while he royally fucks your shit up, but you find yourself tugging at his hair anyway. He pays little mind and moves to the other side and soon enough you have four spots on your chest. 

"Done!"

"Oh, but they're nowhere near as nice as yours. Mind if I give them a little once-over?"

"The pleasure would be all mine."

He shifts into a sitting position, allowing you to crawl between his legs and face his chest. You wish you could play with all of them at once, but he fills in for you, stroking the one you don't have the hands for as you pay attention to the other three. Every now and then you bite down, which draws a sharp chirp from him even though you know he's made of tougher stuff than your flat teeth can damage. He brings his other hand into your hair, holding gently as he can even as his breathing grows shallow and shuddering. 

"It's getting hot in here."

His brother pipes up from his spot "So take off all your clothes."

You can't avoid the occasional shared thought between the two, so you move on and pull off your jeans while the one in bed with you phases his own pants off, revealing his powder blue briefs. You straddle his hips and grind slowly, taking in as much friction as you can beneath your own black boxers. He holds your hips and guides you as you slide up against him, feeling his genital array wake up beneath you. 

He pushes you back a bit and manually peels his briefs off before phasing them away. You've seen it many times before but you can't help but gasp in awe as you stare at his alien genitalia. When unaroused, their groins are featureless save a small lump with a tiny little hole at the base. But now the lump has torn open, the skin inside a dark teal, and many slick turquoise tendrils are taking shape, engorging and writhing. Most of them are fairly short, but the center one reaches to his solar plexus and sprouts a few more decently sized tentacles a the base, giving the impression of a shrub or a succulent. They ooze with a viscous transparent slime that smells faintly of menthol.

"So, how do you want to do this?" 

"I am eager to experience textured friction against my central tendril. Would you please go get the ridged artificial phallus?"

"Why of course."

You get up and head to the drawer, trying not to trip over your laptop cord and disrupt his brother, and retrieve your handy harness and a dildo you keep specifically for this purpose. It's one of those fantasy dildos, long and ridged and studded, with plenty of grooves for the twins to rub up against. It's glossy and black with a faint green highlight and it fits perfectly into the o-ring. You yank your boxers down and step into the harness before turning to face the twin on your bed. He's idly letting his central tendril twine around his fingers, and he takes in a deep breath when he sees you. 

"Scoot back, I wanna get up between your legs like—yep, there we go."

He shimmies backwards and spreads his legs wide so you can press the tip of your dick to the tip of his central tendril. Immediately his most sizable dick curls around yours and begins to squeeze and grind in slow motions. 

"How does that feel?"

His usually placid face is scrunched up, his brow further furrowed as he searches for words. "It feels....marvelous. Would you be so kind as to provide further friction with your digits—ooh, yes, like that."

You bring a hand down and stroke over the slick surrounding tendrils, pinching a small one between your finger and thumb before letting them curl around all your fingers. You begin to thrust a little, give him more friction to work against and he drapes his arms around your shoulders. His expression smooths and his breaths grow deep and shaky as he adjusts to the sensation. 

They don't talk much during sex, other than making requests and checking in with you. It's a bit too challenging for them to maintain a conversation with a separate person by themselves, and you appreciate the amount of work they put into learning how to fuck you. Their only previous experiences have apparently been with a pair of twins from a rival brood ("Most awkward biannual brood feud ever." "When the respite pod is rocking, do not come knocking.") and the galactoids ("Two words..." "...sloppy intercoursepile."). Maybe one day you can get a fourth so they can go more naturally, but for now you'll make do. 

He's making do just fine, squeezing and bending your dick with his, filling every available cranny with his pliable tendrils and leaving a thin film of clear blue slime across your thighs and hand. You lean in close to murmur into his neck. "Mind if I make a little adjustment?"

He nods, but whines when you pry his dick off of yours. "Aw, come on you little brat. It'll just be a second....there we go, good boy." You readjust so that his dick is pointing downwards and let him rewrap.

"I presume you desire to have your biological genitals stimulated?"

"Yes please."

He stretches the center tendril out and slides it between your legs, trailing slick slime along your pubic hair. "Are you seeking stimulation of the internal genital structure or just the external pseudophallus?"

"Get it inside, I love the way your fucked up dickshrub curls up against my g-spot." 

He looks a bit miffed at that. "Our genital structures are very cool and pretty." But under his huffiness he's sliding the tendril against your clit, expanding and contracting it in a beautiful grind. He shuffles a bit, spreading his legs wider and trying to get comfortable. "We need to switch positions so that my 'fucked up dickshrub' is not pinched. If you please?"

You reconfigure so that your legs are draped over his and he can slide his enormous central tendril up against your cunt. He wraps his secondary and tertiary tendrils around your dick and cranes his hips against you. 

"Greedy boy. You're barely even in and still you're still desperate for pleasure." 

He responds by making his tendril as rigid as possible and slithering it up into you. He does his best to move slowly but you're both so slick that it's nearly impossible. He immediately relaxes his dick and leans back against the wall, hands folded neatly behind his head.

“You're just gonna let me do all the work?”

“Mhmm.”

You scoff but begin grinding against him in earnest, rocking your hips forward so your dick drags through his mess of tentacles. You hold his shoulder for balance and bring your other hand down to caress the tendrils that are lashing between you. His control over them is limited and so the one inside you is continuously curling and writhing as his arousal mounts. He can't just keep his hands still so he grasps at your hips, digging his fingernails in and leaving grooves. His dickslime oozes and drips between you, staining the towels you set down. 

“Oof, you're so goddamn wet. Aren't you just a greedy horny boy, all you wanna do is fuck and fuck around.” You punctuate this sentiment with a hard thrust forward, which causes the tendril in your cunt to slide around deliciously. “Shit.”

He pants, a high whine creeping into his voice as he clutches at you harder. You bring the hand that was on his shoulder down to his chest so you can feel his syrinx vibrate as he introduces a lateral tone to his vocalizations. It sounds vaguely reminiscent of a hermit thrush, but it's a man gasping and whining as he wiggles and thrashes beneath you. His face twists, his flat teeth are up and his razor sharp teeth are fully on display as they gnash and chatter. 

The tendril in your pussy is overwhelming, a sensation unlike anything you've ever felt before meeting them. Its movements are delicate, minute twitches and stirs against areas that before have only known the simplicity of pressure and thrust. This envelops your g-spot in such subtle motions that you can barely notice how worked up you're getting. Occasionally a dram of slime oozes forth from his tendril and you can feel it seeping out of you, more warm wetness and pressure and drip. Your hips judder a bit and you suddenly squirt, a short burst that runs down through his tendrils. He chirps and tries to thrust into you a bit, writhe with even more vigor. With the dam broken you keep squirting, in bursts and gushes around him, soaking all the way up to his cum gutters. 

He warbles at the feeling of your fluids dripping down, all the way down to the sensitive little canals at the base or his fuckshrub. “I am going to orgasm soon,” he whimpers. 

“Yeah—fuck—keep it up, because you got me flooding the whole damn basement here and I can't exactly hold off either.” You grasp wildly for any part of his fuckshrub you can keep a grip on, which is difficult because it's so slick and writhing so rapidly. He brings his hand down to help, digging the other one into the sheets. His Adam's apple bobs as he groans, a low tone alongside a high one. 

Unsurprisingly he orgasms first, arching into you and letting out an earsplitting beep like a busted answering machine as you feel the first spurt of come splatter between you. You milk his tendrils as his hands are shaking a bit too much to keep a good grip, and thrust into him and on him. His eyes are wide and blank and his mouth frozen open as he keeps beeping, and his fuckshrub continues to writhe and leak and spray. Your torsos are drenched in slimy come, your thighs painted as his central tendril slips out of you in its spasms. 

He slowly comes down, his face finally relaxing as he gasps for air. His fuckshrub wilts and shrinks down, the skin of his pelvis sealing back up and resuming its standard featurelessness. “It seems I have made quite a mess.” he states, voice back in its usual monotone. 

“If it weren't for your phasing power I don't think I could afford the laundry bills of fucking you guys. Now. I have gotten very, very close to coming. Are you gonna just leave me hanging?”

“It would be rather impolite.” He shimmies out from under you. “Would you care to reposition yourself so that I may perform oral or manual stimulation?”

“My pleasure. Also, phase off all the come except what's on my dick because I'm about to die of Slimey. The rest, you gotta clean off with your mouth.”

He obliges and you lean back on the balls of your feet, legs spread so he can access everything. He gets down on his elbows and knees and gazes at your dick with adoration. You tuck your shaky fingers into his hair and he gives the tip of your cock a little kiss before slipping it into his mouth. He swirls his long tongue all the way down to the base before taking more in, his lips stretched obscenely around you. He brings a hand back so he can slip three fingers into your already well-stretched and soaked cunt. You're already incredibly close, and when he gazes half-lidded and sly into your eyes and curls his fingers firmly you're done for. Your body cranes forward and you thrust your cock further into his pretty mouth with the twitches of your hips. He waits until you've ridden out the last of your orgasm before pulling off and retracting the length of his tongue. 

“Was that satisfactory?”

“God, yes” you gasp. 

“Most excellent. Now, I require respite and hydration. Brother?”

His twin perks up and shuts the laptop. “Yes?”

“Tag. You are it.”

They switch places, the former lounging in the chair while sipping some sort of poisonous alien beverage and listening to some chill beats and his brother kneeling primly on the bed, fully clothed but his shoes. “Round 2, starting now.”


	2. Chapter 2

The twin on your bed glances at his sweaty sibling, then gazes over your bruised, naked flesh and your spit-wet dick with a bit of thought before phasing his way down to the briefs. “It seems I am the cleanest one in the room. That will not do.”

“So how would you like me get you dirty?”

He stretches his tongue out much farther than necessary to lick his chops. “I think I would like to be penetrated with the curved artificial phallus, but I would need to be adequately prepared first.”

“You got it, chief.” You clasp his hands and plant a quick peck on his cheek before moving down to his throat. He inhales a quick little breath as you bite down and wiggles his hips impatiently as you gnaw at him, feral and hungry. You press one hand to his groin and massage it firmly with your palm, and he squeezes your other hand as you finally manage to create a pale green bruise. You look over his toned chest and press a delicate kiss to the center before fixing your mouth on his top right nipple. He continues to squirm as you lavish attention on his nipples, and when you deliver a swift chomp to his collarbone you can feel the wet tear of his genitals emerging.

He quickly phases his briefs off and once more you absorb the sight of a fuckshrub waking up and slithering its way out of his pelvis. You give the central tentacle a quick stroke before getting up and returning to the trusty drawer. You switch out your current dick for a different one. This one is smooth and curved to hit elusive spots, the silicone poured in a rich violet. You can see him idly letting his tendrils curl around his fingers while you fetch a bottle of lubricant.

“Hands and knees.”

He rapidly switches positions and looks back towards you. His tendrils reach down to the bed, but occasionally flex up to reach his stomach. You take in a big eyeful of skinny ass. It's truly pathetic, like a knot in a wooden fence, a set of underfed chicken breasts, a manila envelope. You give it a little squeeze and lean forward to devour it like a starving wolf. 

He tenses as you place a kiss to each sunken cheek and brush your lips down his crack. You take a nice good look at his asshole to appreciate how it looks before you completely fuck it open. It's neat and unobtrusive, with a faint blueish tint. You thank the heavens above for their ability to efficiently clean themselves via phasing before pressing the tip of your tongue against his hole. He huffs quietly as you lick in small, tight circles, your saliva dripping down his perineum. His movements are as small and subtle as yours, a twitch, a little exhale, the push-pull of his pelvic floor flexing. You place your hand into his tendrils but don't move it at all, just to give him something to hold onto.

“Please, your digits, inside” he mutters, and you pull off, extricating your hand away from the tight grip of his tendrils. You squeeze a few drips of lube onto your fingers (not much since he's oozed so much slime onto you already) and trace a little circle around his asshole before slipping two digits inside. He clenches around you and shifts his hips as you slowly open him up. It takes some probing and curling but suddenly he chirps and you can hear a squelch as his fuckshrub emits a spurt of slime. He drops to his elbows and bites down on a pillow. You've found his gametic gland, similar in function and location to a human prostate. He lets out a thready moan every time you brush past it and whines indignantly every time you take your fingers away. 

“Chill, I keep this up and you're gonna bust before you're even ready for my dick. Is that what you want?”

His face is buried in the pillows but you hear a muffled “no.”

“That's what I thought. Good boy, what a horny little rat bastard you are. Ready to take the strap?”

He murmurs affirmation and you slide your fingers out. You douse your dick with lube and hold the tip up to his asshole. After sliding it halfway in you give a few slow, shallow thrusts. He arches into the friction and looks back at you. “What are you waiting for? Copulate with me as though you mean it.”

“Damn, ok. Needy little fucker.” You begin a smooth rhythm of deep thrusts and he goes breathless as your dick drags over his gametic gland beautifully. He plunges his face back into the pillows and clings to the sheets for dear life through his full-body shivering. His skin glistens with sweat and you can feel his tendrils thrashing, hear the slime audibly dripping out onto the sheets and the wet slap of them hitting his stomach. You grasp his narrow hips so you can fuck him with even more speed and emphasis. 

“You like that? You like me railing your skinny little ass even harder?”

“Hggjgghfd, yes” he moans. He tries to say something else but it's just a garbled slur of half-syllables.

You lean over him, your chest flush to his back. “Look at me. I want to see your face. Plus, you're about to destroy my pillow.”

With some difficulty he turns his head to look at you. His face is flushed green and his tongue is lolling out, split to reveal his mandibles. He closes his mouth, gulps and says “It is amazing. I feel so close to climax, but I do not wish to reach orgasm yet.”

“You want me to stop? Maybe we could do something else for a bit?”

“No. Just slow down.”

“You got it, chief.”

You resume your strokes at a torturously slow pace and he shivers beneath you, panting rapidly. He scrabbles at the sheets, desperate for a hold, and ruts his hips into nothing. His genitals slap at your thighs fruitlessly.

“You good down there?”

“Yes. I am 'Gucci,’ in fact. Do not stop.” 

You resume your leisurely stroke and his breath catches, a squeaky warble emanating from his throat alongside a low lateral monotone hum. You dig your nails into his sides and lean up against him so you can feel the vibrations of his torso. 

“Faster. Harder. I can not take it anymore.”

You pick up the pace, swift, firm, driving thrusts into his ass and he tosses his head, his carefully maintained hair falling in his face. He mishes his face into the pillows once more before turning it to the side so you can see the vibrant green of his cheeks, the drool pooling from the corner of his mouth. 

With some effort he manages to speak. “M-my tendrils… please, I need…”

You reach under his pelvis and almost immediately your hand is wrapped in a death grip of sliming fucktentacle. You squeeze back and make an earnest effort to move your hand up and down. His slime drips down your wrist and leaks through your fingers, making it slightly easier for you to move your hand through the tangle.

“You wanna come?” He nods as best he can from his position and nearly bites his tongue off when you slow down for a moment before speeding up, dragging the head of your cock over his gametic gland with newfound purpose. The only warning you get is a tiny whimper through clenched fangs before his genitals clasp and lash at your hand, expelling rapid little spurts of come in time with your thrusts. His whimper crescendos into a high howl and concludes in a series of rapid gasping pants. You continue to fuck him through it until he starts squirming with overstimulation. 

"Enough, enough." You pull out and his shaking legs can no longer keep him up. He collapses, his stomach and pelvis splashing into his sloppy come puddle. 

"Fucker, if you don't clean that I'll kill you where you stand."

He teleports it away, along with all the sweat that's accumulated on your bodies. His brother, who you thought was asleep by this point, teleports next to him and they lounge on your bed, prop cigarettes in hand.

"Come to bed." "We have saved a spot." They gesture to the space between them.

"That's my bed." But you take your harness off, toss it in the corner of the room somewhere and settle between them. They nuzzle up to you, little smiles on their placid faces, and in that moment you feel some kind of gay hemisphere of your brain turn into mush. They might be gone in the morning, they might not be, but there's nothing wrong with a little bit of unpredictability from your two favorite selfish little wastrels. You drift off in the embrace of their smooth, cool skin, the softness of their hair, the gentle rise and fall of two sets of lungs, the thump of two hearts.


End file.
